Their Private War

Chapter Three (By psycho-pink-faerie)

Narcissa apparated to the usual spot and was met by two aurors as she did every month. "Afternoon, Mrs Malfoy." Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep booming voice shouted over the waves crashing onto the beach, and the rain pelting down against the cliff face. "Lovely weather for it!"

She nodded sardonically, brushing her wet fringe out of her face. The weather provided a very accurate description of her mood; bleak and miserable. "Shall we make tracks?" The other auror said meekly; it was clear he wasn't long out of training for he looked positively terrified at the thought of Azkaban.

They stepped forward to the edge of the sand and Kingsley held out his hand, raising a rowing boat from the watery depths of the North Sea. Narcissa got in first, followed by the young auror, and then Kingsley himself. She sat down on the rickety wooden seat, which was surprisingly dry and pulled her travelling cloak tighter around her shoulders. Kingsley muttered a spell and of their own accord, the oars adopted a rowing motion. He could of course, have used a spell that didn't require their usage but felt it would look strange to any muggles who would happen to be on the beach. Though why anyone would be out in that weather, was a complete mystery to him.

Azkaban prison was situated on some jagged rocks in the sea, far away from the mainland. However, there were still many safeguards in place to ensure it didn't get seen by muggles. It was hidden by the more powerful invisibility charms that existed and there was an undetectable barrier, which meant that any muggle who braved the treacherous conditions, got gently bumped away – not to mention decided it was their lifetime ambition to sail to the moon, or do something else equally unachievable. The boat they were travelling in was designed to withstand jolting and to stay afloat no matter how perilous the sea was.

The boat bumped up gently onto a scarce patch of pebbled beach, and after they had exited Kingsley made it disappear, before leading the way up to the building looming hundreds of metres above them, and casting dark shadows on the ground. The wind howled, and the rain pouted as the three of them clambered over pointed rocks making it slippery. The three lonesome visitors were very aware of where they put their feet, avoiding an accident that was just waiting to happen. Narcissa had always supposed that was the point – the pain of getting there was just another barrier preventing prisoners from escaping, not that it really worked, as had been proven by her sister. As they drew closer, she felt the familiar unpleasant situation of being zapped of any energy she possessed. The light went out in her eyes and in her head she heard Hermione's screams, as clear as that day in Malfoy Manor. Narcissa could feel herself starting to shake and fought to remain composed, 'You haven't done anything wrong; you don't deserve to be here' she repeated under her breath over and over again. By the time they had walked up the stone steps, Narcissa had acquainted herself with the dull feelings and her mind had ceased tormenting her. She still shivered when she walked past the two Dementors on guard at the main entrance.

Presenting herself at a small stone desk, fully aware of the regulations by now, Narcissa pulled out her wand and handed it to the wizard behind the counter. "I am Mrs Narcissa Malfoy, wife of Lucius Malfoy. We reside at Malfoy Manor, Surrey." She recited, privately wondering – as she did every time she visited – how the guy coped with working in the prison without being rendered insane.

Her sympathy for him vanished with his next question. "What is your purpose at Azkaban?"

Narcissa silently seethed inside. "I'm visiting," she responded, through gritted teeth.

"Visiting whom? I'll need to take a cell number."

Narcissa's features adopted an ugly look – she was the only visitor the prison allowed on the grounds, due to her sister's mental health. She had worked very hard to acquire this uncommon privilege. "Bellatrix Lestrange, Wing 22, room 4" She almost grunted.

"Take her up!" The guard said to the Dementor stood to his right. Chills ran down her spine as the Dementor brushed past her. She followed it down the long, narrow corridors, only barely able to see a foot in front of her. The rest was enveloped in darkness. Gradually it began to get lighter, enough so that Narcissa was able to make out the stone walls again. Bellatrix' room was on the top but one floor in the mental health unit – which incidentally was only brought in when her sister was re-arrested. Her trial had lasted for six months in which she was psychologically assessed and re-assessed, only to determine that she was mentally unstable and had hardly any control over her own actions. Nobody had a certainty that she had not played the demented part all along, but if she had, she certainly easily got every Healer from every mental care unit in Britain fooled, without the shadow of a doubt. It was for this reason alone that the Dementors were forbidden to administer the kiss – to the anger of much of the wizarding world. St Mungo's, it was decided, wasn't a safe place to put her, and not nearly enough of a punishment.

The door to her sister's room swung open and cautiously Narcissa stepped inside, wary as to Bellatrix' demeanour. "Cissy dear, how nice to see you." she rasped. She appeared lucid enough, but then with her, you never could tell. She could be perfectly sane one minute and ranting and raving the next.

"It's good to see you too Bella." Narcissa replied honestly. She hugged her briefly before drawing back to look at her. She was thinner than her sister remembered and her face was gaunter than ever. The blonde reached for one of Bellatrix' arms and examined it critically. The skin on her wrists was scarred, although it looked red raw, and painful to the touch too, Narcissa noted, running her fingers up her arm. "Bella – " she started sternly, although she knew Bellatrix would detect the note of emotion in her tone.

Without saying a word, Narcissa attempted to penetrate her big sister's defences. Bellatrix, though she hadn't performed magic in little over a year, was able to repel her; though coming from her it was a weak defence. And Bella's eyes gave her away instantly. She gave a troubled glance over to the corner of the room, which Narcissa followed and bent down to investigate. On the floor lay several quills which had been snapped in half, and the ends sharpened. She touched the point with her forefinger, feeling a sharp prick and seeing a glistening blood drop appear. Narcissa picked up the quills and stuffed them into her handbag, not missing her sister's scowl. "It's for your own good, you know it. Are you taking your medication when you're supposed to?" She always had to smile at the irony of the complete role reversal that had taken place since Bellatrix had been locked up. When they were younger, as children she and Bella had been the closest – Andromeda had chosen to distance herself. Whenever Narcissa had a problem it was always Bellatrix she went to for advice.

"Do you even need to ask?" Bella mocked, avoiding the question.

Narcissa raised her eyebrows, "Given what I've just found, then I'd say that's a yes – wouldn't you?" She got no reply. Her sister turned her back to her and ignored her. "You have to stop doing this Bella," she implored. "If not for yourself, for me and my family; we've suffered enough since the end of the last year-" Her voice was low and she was treading on eggshells as she always did when she visited.

"You've suffered! You've suffered!" Bellatrix screeched, her voice rising hysterically. Narcissa had said the wrong thing. "What about me? I'm sure Lucius must be going through hell!" The witch taunted, the manic gleam returning to her eyes. Bellatrix hadn't – and probably wouldn't – ever forgive Lucius for escaping jail again, when this was what she was subjected to for the rest of her life.

In that moment, gone was the sister Narcissa recognised, replaced with the vile Death Eater – hated by many. "Please don't do this," she pleaded, her eyes welling up with tears. "I know you regret it Bella," she tried again.

Her sister gave an uncontrollable laugh, "Regret it?" She repeated, still giggling manically. "I don't have regrets. Everything I did, I did it because I wanted to! I was his greatest… his most loyal," Bellatrix babbled. "And you – and you don't know me at all!" She screamed, picking up her plate of uneaten food and throwing it across the room, as you'd expect from a small child.

Two healers hurried in to restrain her, and one of them turned to Narcissa. "You need to leave Mrs Malfoy," she said between gasping for breath and wincing as Bellatrix kicked her. "She'll be just fine once she's calmed down."

Narcissa just nodded, tears pouring impassively down her cheeks as she was chivvied out the door, Bellatrix hurling a torrent of abuse at her sister's retreating back. Narcissa cried all the more. "She doesn't know what she's saying," the second witch said kindly, "Bella won't remember a word of this when she's feeling better." She was assured.

The Dementor waiting outside the room turned and started to glide down the corridor, Narcissa following in its wake. The heavy door to Bellatrix' room slammed shut, quelling her screams. And then, the most feared Death Eater, after having clawed at the door desperately, slid to the floor and wailed. She had no room for tears.

Narcissa made her way downstairs, her heart heavy. She felt completely numb and barely felt it when she got too close to the Dementor in the dark. She fought back a wave of tears swallowing hard as she stepped out into the main entrance. She collected her wand from the man behind the desk and he bestowed a kind smile on her. "See you next month, Mrs Malfoy."

Narcissa just nodded and turned to leave, "Can I ask you a question?" She asked, spinning back around. The wizard looked surprised, but nodded nevertheless. "How do you work in a place like this without being consumed by hatred and fear?"

He considered her question for a minute, before responding to it. "Quiet honestly I've never really given it much thought, but I think it's because I have a loving wife and children to go home to at night… it just makes it all feel worth it I guess. I think of them, and this place doesn't affect me."

Narcissa managed a small smile, "Thank you." she answered. "I'll see you next month." She walked out of the door where the aurors were waiting to escort her back to the mainland. And as she apparated home that afternoon, she contemplated the amount of truth there was to the wizard's words.

Narcissa appeared with a pop in the hallway of Malfoy Manor, removing her travelling cloak and depositing it on their new house elf, a female that had been transferred to them as a gift by Lucius' cousin in Paris, to replace Dobby. "Narcissa, how lovely to see you!" Draco's wife called from the doorway to the drawing room. "We brought your grandson for a visit."

A beautiful smile appeared on Narcissa's face as she stepped in the room, shortly holding her daughter-in-law's hand as a welcome. Since his birth, Scorpius had already grown considerably. She used the back of her forefinger to stroke his cheek; he stirred briefly but didn't wake. Astoria smiled down at her baby fondly before holding the sleeping bundle out to his grandmother. Carefully she placed him in Narcissa's arms. She cradled him gently and as a result of the slight movement, Scorpius opened his eyes – the same brilliant blue as his father's – and his chubby little face broke into a smile. Astoria leaned over them and wiggled her fingers at her son – who grabbed her forefinger with his little fist and refused to let go.

"Hello mother," Draco and his father came out of the room behind them. He kissed her on the cheek and gave her a hug, fully aware of his father's disapproval, even if he didn't say it. Since the war he and Narcissa had become closer – more so after he and Astoria had wed.

"Draco and Astoria were just leaving," Lucius said pointedly. His relationship with his son had worsened over the years since then, for he was aware now that Draco had long since formed his own ideas about the world, and he truly was his mother's son. That wasn't right. "You're back early 'Cissa," he turned his attention to his wife. "You've been thinking about what I said earlier, I hope?" The tone in which he addressed her held an underlying threat, which only Draco – having been on the receiving end many a time – picked up on. Narcissa didn't reply.

"Are you sure you'll be okay mum?" Draco checked, he was fully aware that as soon as he and his family left there'd be some sort of disagreement. It was the way it had always been for as long as he could remember. There was a time when they'd been at a gathering held by the Parkinsons', things had been tense all day leading up to it, and when they'd arrived home that evening all hell had broken loose. Draco, at the age of ten, was sent to his room and subjected to his father verbally abusing his mother, and not quietly at that. And it had stayed with him to this day, he vowed never to treat Astoria and Scorpius like that.

Narcissa smiled, "I'll be just fine, she assured him, though she too was dreading the argument. "I've got some things to do anyway… it's been lovely to see you darling." She handed Scorpius, who had fallen back to sleep, back to his mother. "Astoria, we must meet for a coffee one morning during the week." She bestowed a smile upon her son's wife. Astoria was a lovely girl; though Slytherins for generations, the Greengrass' family had never supported the Dark Lord's cause, though they'd never openly rejected it either. It would have been a foolish thing to do. But whatever Astoria believed, she'd certainly brought Draco back to life. After the war, he'd shut himself away from the world, unable to cope with the true extent of the horrors he'd committed and witnessed. With her help he'd slowly began living once more and learnt to truly appreciate the world which so many had fought to hold onto. And to Narcissa, though she could never have admitted it before, that, was worth all the riches in the world.

"Come on!" Draco lightly touched his wife's shoulder, as she put Scorpius in the travelling sling. He threw a handful of floo powder into the grate and green flames engulfed them with a roar over the sound of them stating their destination.

For a moment there was complete silence, before Lucius turned on Narcissa. "Are you going to answer my question now? Did you have a change of heart?"

Narcissa drew herself up to her full height, "I had to come away – Bella wasn't well." She stated firmly as if that closed the matter. "And in answer to your question I have not, nor will I change my mind."

Lucius leaned in closer to her. "I think you forget who you're married to." his voice was deadly calm and she could smell firewhisky on his breath.

"She's my sister!" His 'wife' protested.

"I'm your husband," Lucius interjected smoothly.

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Narcissa answered, unusually flippant.

"I don't like your attitude, Narcissa." Each of his words sounded forced, and he gripped her tightly around the wrist. "You're not a Black now you know?"

Narcissa's eyes narrowed, "I don't like yours…" she started. "No, I'm not, although while we're on the subject, you'd never have dared insult the Blacks' in front of my parents, I won't have it either." She didn't know where this sudden self-confidence had risen from – though she suspected it was from years of being spoken to in this manner. "No I'm not a Black! I'm a Malfoy and you've never let me forget it!" Her tone changed, and Lucius could detect the bitterness behind her words.

"I simply will not have you ruining the family name, with your continued association with Her." He paced the room, his temper rising as their argument got fiercer. "You'll stop seeing her!"

If there was one thing Narcissa could not stand, it was a hypocrite. "How dare you?" Her voice lowered dangerously. "You can't blame Bella's life choice on the besmirching of the Malfoy name, because you did that all by yourself. Even your son can barely stand to be around you!" She turned on her heel and stormed out of the house, before Lucius had the chance to say anything more. The door slammed shut behind her, echoing through the empty house and Lucius stood there, completely stunned.